Second Skin
by stray.alchemist
Summary: All enticing tales begin with a wish uttered in the wrong hour, a need answered in the most unexpected way. It was no different for Loki. The young sorcerer discovered his shapeshifting abilities - and the fact that apparently there was no match for him better than... himself.


All enticing tales begin with a wish uttered in the wrong hour, a need answered in the most unexpected way. It was no different for Loki.

In spite of late hour, he was hosting an unexpected visitor. A stranger who had apparently sneaked past Asgard's guards. Either this or he must have dozed off over his books and his weary mind conjured up this improbable image. He sighed and reached out to the mirror. So did the long-haired creature; their fingers met at the cold surface.

She had hollow, viridian eyes and almost pierced him with a demanding glare. A golden coronet supported her hair, exposing high forehead and slightly pointed curves of brows. Childlish mellowness had already begun to give way to more mature, sharp lines of cheekbones and chin. She pouted her lips in an expression of both anxiety and inquisitiveness. He couldn't help smiling. The girl smiled back, in the same, slightly ironic manner. Not until then did he acknowledge that he was looking at himself. Herself. Whatever.

Loki sighed; in the quiet of his chamber it sounded softer, somewhat higher, than usual. He used to hope for being someone else, not a weaker, younger sibling pushed around. It seemed that someone had replied to his hopeless velleity.

_Not someone. I did this_, he reminded himself, running his fingers over black curls. _I'm a shapeshifter, after all._ Only this time it felt different. His mind didn't have to adjust to this new shell, and the process itself was effortless, as natural as breathing. He wouldn't even call it shapeshifting. On the other hand, regardless of names and intentions, this body felt alien in the most unexpected way.

Though "pleasant" and "interesting" were also adjectives he could use.

The girl parted her lips in a victorious smile. _Pretty_, he thought. _She could have the whole court at her feet_. Her cheeks reddened at this compliment.

_I could have the whole court at my feet_, he corrected that thought. Only he couldn't convince himself to believe this person was still him, still... Loki. He dug his fingers deeper into thick hair, reaching towards the back of the head; she gave him a questioning look. His hand slid slowly towards her collarbones, drawing circles over her skin as she instinctively craned her neck. The girl idly followed the movement of his hand with her gaze, eyelids half-closed. Only when he started plucking at the hem of her dress, she opened her eyes wide, abruptly cautious.

Loki unfastened the ribbons knotted at the bodice and removed the plastron beneath it. There was no sensuality to his gestures this time, only slightly nervous curiosity, suitable for an aspiring sorcerer, in his own opinion. He pulled the garment off the shoulders, staring. The girl stared, too, and the blush on her cheeks deepened with embarrassment.

...or with something completely else.

He let his hand slip onto her breast and pinched her nipple. The quiet gasp that followed had clearly escaped his lips; he felt the twinge surrounded by that other, warmer sensation as if it was his own. Even so, his mind struggled against it, evoking two other feelings he already knew all too well. Doubt. Fear. He winced and repeated the previous gesture, this time more carefully, searching for the most sensitive spots. And maybe, finally, this was the only way to embrace this body: through rubbing motions shifting from wary to almost violent, through hastening breath and waking want.

At some point the dress lapsed to the floor, displaying the curve of her hips, surprisingly not childlike at all. Loki automatically clasped her arms around herself, but soon pressed her fingers to soft skin again, kneading, slowly working her way to the nexus of building tingle. She kept her gaze fixed at the mirror, exactly at her very own eyes, sparkling with arousal. There was something about it - seeing herself in such a state, so completely naked, so very true, open and honest - that made her heart quicken even more. She'd swear that whole Asgard could hear the sound it made, loud as drums.

She leaned on the mirror, clouding its surface with her breath, her hand teasingly splayed over her centre. The glass reflected her in every ruthless detail, from jerked thighs, through hardened, dusky teats to that shamelessly lascivious expression. She pushed her fingers against damp flesh, still tautingly, but firmly enough to draw out an imploring whine.

The tingling turned to a sensation dangerously close to ache, but it took a lot more effort than expected to find its core, let alone relieve it. The girl moved and squirmed her fingers impatiently, tucking their tips between her folds, but motions only seemed to inflame that feeling. And when Loki believed it couldn't be any more intense, at one place it became almost burning white before dissolving in pleasure.

She gasped, clutching one hand on the mirror frame and circling the sensible skin. The flame within her began to blaze and fade alternately.

_If anyone ever finds out -_

The sudden realization made her shiver. She twitched her thighs, squeezing her hand between them.

_If anyone discovers that other side of me, everything that had happened to me will seem a harmless mock compared to what will follow._

She pressed harder, greedily, as if it could scatter the fear.

_"With your scant ability to weave illusions and play tricks, you should be given a spindle instead of a sword!"_

Bitter memories mingled with pleasing surges.

_"How come you are Thor's brother?"_

Loki whimpered, clenching her hand even tighter.

_Coward. Weakling._

She continued the furious throbbing until her mind went almost completely blank. Burnt out.

_Witch._

Somewhat complete.

Loki uttered a sigh, wiping her fingers into embroidered fabric of the dress before wrapping herself in it. She found the touch of cold material surprisingly reassuring. Pleasant numbness gradually gave place to usual clarity - after all, this was just another secret to be kept. Not the first one and definitely not the last.

The girl in the mirror smiled at her; this smile was a promise of wonders, power and admiration awaiting Loki. She believed it without a second thought.


End file.
